Page 36 of Return on Love

“Yeah. Okay. If it’ll hurt Bernard, I won’t do it. I’ll stay here though I’ve no intention of going back to MooreGames. But Lils, keep me in the loop. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

I feel even worse after I disconnect than I did before. I’d hate for Bernard to be in any kind of trouble. He’s one of the best people in the firm, not only in his behavior and attitude but in his knowledge, skill and gut feel. Have I made things worse for him by ticking off Ryan? What if Ryan goes to Weber, and this blows up? I mean, what I did back there wasn’t consultant behavior. Hell, do I need to apologize to the dolt? If it means helping Bernard, I might do it. I let out a sigh. But not now. I need some time to think and clear my mind.

There’s nothing for me to do. I don’t even remember the last weekday when I was at home with nothing to do. What do people do when they have free time? I order a pizza, make myself comfortable on the couch, and begin watching Star Wars, Episode 1—The Phantom Menace.

Sometime when I’m watching Attack of the Clones, my phone trills. It’s Gabriel. I ignore it. Any kind of Ryan related talk is a no go for me right now. I finish the last piece of my now cold pizza. I’ve been eating it bite by bite like a snack throughout the movies. Anakin and Padme have just reached Geonosis when my phone rings again. God! Maybe I should put it on silent or switch it off. It’s Nora!

After an initial hesitation, I swipe it up. I like her and don’t want to give her the cold shoulder. “Hi,” I say. “If it’s anything to do with your company, I don’t want to talk about it.”

I can hear a heavy breathing on the other side, as she speaks. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why won’t I be?”

A whisper. As if someone else is with her. “When’ll you be back? There was something I had to discuss.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m really needed there. So, if that’s why you called, I don’t think I can help.”

“Wait,” she says immediately before I can disconnect. “Your ideas are great, Eva. You can make a real difference here. Please don’t leave.”

Yeah right. Except that the founder doesn’t think they’re any good. “Thanks for saying it, but that’s not what others in your team think. And I hate to be in a place where I’m not valued,” I say.

I disconnect and let out a deep breath. I hate to be rude, especially to nice people like Nora. But I can guess who was breathing behind her and making her ask these questions. And for him, I have no politeness left in my system. Maybe he hasn’t told Weber after all. Maybe he thinks if I back off as their consultant, it’ll break the condition Weber had put on him.

By the end of Episode 3, Revenge of the Sith, my eyes are tired. I shut down the TV and just lie down on the couch. How am I going to handle the situation I’ve put myself in? I can’t go back to LA. But I can’t stay here as well. I just hope it doesn’t adversely affect Bernard.

And then there’s Dad. Could I spend the rest of my life without seeing him again? What if I went far away, like to China or Japan? There must be opportunities for me there. Startup scene is magnificent in Asia and I’m certain PE and VC firms need people there. I could be one of those people. That would distance me from Ryan and Dad with his demeaning glances. Now, of course, he has a reason for it as well.

I ponder whether to indulge in another pizza and movies or simply sleep, considering my calorie intake. While I’m staring inside my almost empty fridge, the bell rings. Did I actually order the pizza I was only thinking about?

Opening the door, I am frozen in place. Staring back at me are the bluest of eyes. The rugged face with a day-old beard, the square jaw and the lips that are set in a straight line.

“You shouldn’t open the door without asking who it is. It could be a thief, or a murderer,” Ryan says and brings me out of my trance.

What? Why is he here? First he comes unannounced, and then thinks it’s okay to lecture me on safety? Who the fricking hell does he think he is?

He struts inside and stands by the door, still looking at me.

“Or it could be you. For a change, I agree with you. I should’ve asked because then I wouldn’t have opened it. What’re you doing here?” I hope my voice is as sharp as a sword.

He looks fixedly at me. His jaw clenches, and lips press together, as if holding back the words that want to come out. I’m sure he can’t handle my looks. My unruly strands of hair, uncombed now, are having a party. I’m still dressed in the jeans and top I wore to the office, but the top is now crumpled. The way he continues to scrutinize me, I think maybe there’s even some pizza sauce stuck on my chin.

“Look, I won’t create any problems for you back at my firm, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just don’t want to be treated like a dodo,” I say, determined to out-stare him.

His gaze is still fixed on my face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

What! Is His Royal Highness apologizing? To me? Did the sun rise from the west today? Did the Sith Lord decide to leave the dark side of the force?

My shock must be evident on my face, because he looks away before continuing. “I don’t know how to convince you I don’t hate you. Not by far. Not in grad school and definitely not now. And I never knew that you had a crush on me. I always thought you… you hated me. Though I can see clearly that you do hate me now.”

He has finally turned his back to me and is standing by the kitchen countertop, holding it with his hands. I can see his knuckles turning white. I wonder if he’s trying to break the granite top with his brute strength.

“Eva,” he says in his usual style, which makes my heart beat just a little faster, though right now, it could also be because of the really unexpected words coming out of his mouth. “I want you to stay. To help me figure out better games, give a better direction to MooreGames. If that means losing the funding from your firm, so be it.”

Shock upon shock! He really thinks I can help him? So much so that he’s ready to forgo funding from the firm? My head reels. It’s just too much, too sudden.

I shuffle to the couch and lower myself into it. Even though I can’t see him, I can feel him turning, fixing his gaze on me. “Please. Don’t leave.” These three words, spoken so softly, almost cut through my resolve like a hot knife cutting through butter. How could I say no to that? How could anyone say no to that?

But how can I agree? How do I know he’s not playing me again?

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